


Armistice

by spicedpiano



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry Sex, Canon Compliant, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Erik Logic is Fucked Up Logic, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kink Meme, M/M, Oral Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 22:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1758327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicedpiano/pseuds/spicedpiano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <a href="http://futurepast-kink.dreamwidth.org/2013/07/22/round1.html?thread=14905#cmt14905">this kink meme prompt</a>:</p><p>Charles, Erik, Hank and Logan stay at a hotel the night before the confrontation with Trask and Raven. Erik points out, with some dark amusement, that Hank and Logan are dogging his every step to make certain he's never alone with Charles, now that Charles is defenseless without his powers.</p><p>Charles's pride is piqued by that, and he insists Hank and Logan take the other room, and shares his own with Erik.</p><p>He probably should've listened to Hank and Logan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Armistice

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to **Tahariel** for looking this over for me!

They landed in Paris after dark, the airport tarmac black like spilled ink as they departed the plane. Ever since they broke him out of prison Erik had been like a stalking lion, and even now his presence prickled at the back of Charles’ neck, walking two paces behind him toward the terminal, his silence louder anything he could have said. 

Hank had the itinerary and was going over it again, the list of dignitaries in attendance, when the talks were scheduled to begin and when they would expect Trask to be giving his briefing, but Charles was having a difficult time paying real attention. His thoughts were with Raven, somewhere in this city even now — if he’d had his power he could have reached out and threaded himself through every mind within the walls until he found her. But he didn’t, of course, and so all he could do was think of her, out there, so close now and almost within reach.

The headiness of what would happen the next day, of seeing her and bringing her home at last, battled against the sick way he wanted to recoil to think of the cost. There were so many people huddled together in this town, so many voices …. He knew it wasn’t real, but for a moment he thought he could hear them, all their pain roiling together and crashing against the inside of his skull. The memory was almost as keen as the real thing and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take in a quick breath through the nose, to balance himself.

“I’m using the lavatory,” Charles said once they were in the terminal. The airport was nearly empty this time of night, halls spotted with just a few glazed-eye travelers; Charles’ mind was still a little glossy from the Scotch he’d had on the plane and he needed a chance to clear his thoughts somewhere away from other people. In truth he could do with another drink, but with the plans for tomorrow he suspected that would be a rather bad idea. “Go ahead and get the car, I’ll be along.”

“I’ll come as well,” Erik said, shrugging his bag up onto his shoulder and moving to follow Charles.

Logan glanced at Hank, who shook his head and held up the folder with the itinerary and their car and hotel information.

“Hold on,” Logan said, his gaze taking a second too long to pull away from Hank’s. “I’m coming too.”

Erik met Charles’ eye, and Charles got the sudden sense he was saying something in his mind, something meant for Charles to hear, but if he was, it fell on deaf ears. Charles turned and walked away, trying not to think about the fall of Erik’s steps behind him or the way it made him feel strange and febrile, like Erik had lit a fire in his bones.

—

The interior of the Hôtel le Bristol Paris was more lavish than Charles had remembered, the marble floor, chandeliers, and deep red plush rugs all modeled off the eighteenth century French aesthetic, lavishly and unapologetically expensive. Logan snorted when they passed a table bearing an ice sculpture of a nude Artemis but, wisely, chose to keep his thoughts otherwise to himself. 

“Bienvenue à Hôtel le Bristol Paris,” said the front desk clerk, picking up her fountain pen as they approached. “Puis-je vous aider?”

“Deux chambres, nom de Charles Xavier,” Charles said.

She thumbed through her book to find his reservation, marking them down with the date and time of their arrival before passing them two bronze keys, each attached to its own copperplate tag inscribed with a room number. Charles handed one off to Logan and they took the magnificent glass and wrought iron elevator up to their floor. 

“304 and 319,” Charles said, once they were out in the hall. They were further apart than he’d expected, especially for January. A pity he decided to lease the Paris apartment. 

“We’ll split up for the night and meet in the lobby in the morning?” Hank suggested.

“Sounds good,” Logan said. Then — “I don’t think so, bub.” 

Erik had taken a step closer to Charles before Logan stopped him with unsheathed claws resting against his bicep, a sharp barrier between Erik and Charles. Erik gave Logan a cold look but Logan didn’t back down, just held Erik’s gaze and scowled at him.

“I’m starting to think they don’t want me to be alone with you, Charles,” Erik said mildly, his eyes finally sliding away from Logan’s and meeting Charles’ instead, a small smile toying at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps that’s a good idea, now that you’re without defenses.”

Which … really, Charles knew when he was being played, and even without his powers he could tell when Erik was trying to influence him. The wisest thing would be to leave it, pretend Erik said nothing at all, take Hank and their luggage to one of the rooms and leave Erik to Logan’s tender mercies. But when Charles opened his mouth, what came out was:

“Erik will be staying with me. Thank you, Logan,” he said, before the other man could interject, “but I’m more than capable of looking after myself.”

“Charles,” Hank said from behind him, and when Charles turned to look at him he was shifting his weight, uncertain, a thin line of worry creasing his brow above the bridge of his glasses. “Are you sure …. I mean, even if Erik didn’t kill the president, he killed plenty of other people. There was every reason for him to be in prison. Not that I think he would try to kill _you_ , exactly, but … sorry, I just don’t think that’s the best plan right now. No offense, Erik.”

“None taken.”

“Listen to the kid, Professor,” Logan said, and although he was still arguing Charles heard his claws when they retreated, the battle already partially surrendered. “It’s a big day tomorrow, and there’s no reason for the two of you to be up fighting all night long.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Just don’t — if you’re going to do this, then promise you aren’t —“ Hank broke off, whatever he was going to say seemingly thinking better of it and pressing his lips tight together. For the best, really; Charles had no idea if Hank suspected he and Erik used to be … intimately involved, and he didn’t particularly want to find out in the presence of the man himself. “All right,” Hank said instead. “Just, hold on a second.” He shrugged his bag off his shoulder and knelt down on the floor to unzip it, pushing aside his neatly-folded clothes and pulling out a small black zippered case. “Your doses for today and tomorrow are in here. Don’t overdo it. I only brought this much, and once it’s gone, it’s gone.”

“Thank you, Hank,” Charles said. He tried to be gentle when he said it; he was well aware of how much Hank cared about him; it was so clearly demonstrated every day he spent in Westchester at Charles’ side when surely, surely with his degrees, his technical ability, and the normalcy granted by his serum, he could have found a job at any university in the country. Charles had always meant to tell him how much he appreciated it, but somehow it had just never come out quite right.

He took the case with the serum and patted Hank on the shoulder, once, then picked up his suitcase and headed down the hall toward 319. A second later he heard Erik’s footsteps behind him, longer strides making it easy for Erik to catch up. They didn’t speak until they were already in the room, Erik turning the lock with the key rather than his power for once.

Charles took the bed nearest the window, dumping his suitcase by the foot and sitting down on the edge of the mattress to unzip the case Hank gave him. There were five syringes inside, already filled with that sweet yellow liquid, carefully measured to the exact doses. Once he only needed a little, but his tolerance had grown significantly since then. 

Erik was still watching him, a silent shadow on the edge of Charles’ peripheral vision, as Charles looped the tourniquet around his upper arm and pulled the elastic tight with his teeth. The needle stung going in and he presses down the plunger, letting the tourniquet go and tilting his head back, waiting for that perfect moment of serenity when the drug passes the blood-brain barrier. 

Erik dropped his suitcase on the floor, loudly, but Charles didn’t even open his eyes. He was lost in that glorious surge of dizziness, his mind sizzling and then going blissfully white. 

“Charles,” Erik said.

“Mmm?” Charles dropped the needle, he thought in the case, but he heard it roll off the bed a second later, falling onto the carpeted floor. 

A rustle of fabric, and the harsh exhale of breath. Erik said, “You’re bleeding.” He sounded … exasperated, almost, yes, that was the word. Already Charles’ thoughts were coming more reluctantly. 

“Oh,” Charles said, and he opened his eyes halfway, looking at Erik from beneath his lashes. Erik was frowning.

“Are you _high?_ ” 

Charles laughed, because — oh, Erik. He could almost feel fond of him, right now. Almost. “A little,” he said, and he pinched his fingers together to show Erik exactly how much, lips still pressed into a smile. “It will get … more, before it goes away. It lets me sleep.” Makes him sleep, more like, but that kind of nuance felt irrelevant all of a sudden. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Erik said, and Charles was laughing again as Erik pulled away, vanishing out of the line of Charles’ sight. 

Charles listened to the sound of Erik’s footfalls crossing from the carpet to parquet flooring and then back again, and then Erik was crouching down at the foot of the bed and pressing toilet tissue to the crook of Charles’ arm. “Bend your arm and hold that there.”

“Hmm,” Charles said, and he reached out to touch one finger to Erik’s lips, as if shushing him. “You’re bossy.”

“And you’re a mess.” Erik straightened and Charles’ finger fell away, arm dropping like a weight back into his lap. “You won’t be like this tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question.

“No. Don’t worry, Erik, I’ll be ex- ex _act_ ly who you want me to be.” If his voice cracked a little, Charles was determined not to notice. He closed his eyes and bent his elbow like Erik had said, falling back onto the mattress with a quiet sigh. 

He could still feel Erik standing there, just a foot away, probably thinking something not-very-nice about him. And he’d be right, Charles’ mind reminded itself, with a sick and schadenfreudistic pleasure. Damn him, right about Charles, right about … everything. 

There was the sound of a zipper being tugged shut and Charles blinked his eyes open enough to see, blearily, Erik closing the serum case and setting it aside on a table. 

“Go to sleep, then,” Erik said. He turned his back on Charles and walked toward his own bed, his silhouette tall and narrow in Charles’ hazy vision. “I’ve set the alarm for seven. I expect I’ll be out for a run, so don’t rely on me to wake you.”

Charles made another indistinct noise and tried to push himself further up the bed, but it was a lost cause. He dropped back down, a harsh breath escaping his lungs, and closed his eyes. This was good enough. He could hear Erik moving around in the room, the rustle of fabric as Erik pulled the counterpane back from his own bed, a creak as Erik stepped on a loose floorboard.

“You’re such an asshole, Erik,” he found himself saying, mumbling really, turning his face toward the Erik-noises, duvet scratchy against his cheek. 

“So you’ve said.” Erik’s footsteps moved closer again, then stopped; Charles opened his eyes and found himself looking at Erik’s legs, slim and well-built in the trousers Charles bought for him, Erik’s long fingers settled on his hips. Then, “Pour l'amour du ciel,” Erik murmured, and he bent forward, hooking his hands under Charles’ arms and dragging him bodily up the bed, dropping him with his head on the pillow. “You were always so lazy in the evenings,” Erik said, tugging the duvet out from under Charles’ weight, yanking it down past his feet. “Do you remember?”

Charles hummed and closed his eyes again, Erik pulling off his shoes and dropping them, clop-clop, on the floor. He did remember. Lazy in the mornings, too, Erik alway said, fondly, tracing Charles’ lips with his finger and stealing kisses, Charles too tired and languid to bat him away.

Erik’s hands were still on Charles, curling around his ankles, fingertips pressing into the hollows beneath the bones. Charles imagined he could feel Erik’s pulse in his thumbs, throbbing against his skin. 

“What are you doing?” Charles said, struggling to open his heavy eyes again. Erik was watching him with an unreadable expression, his gaze dark as it moved up Charles’ body, toward his face. 

“It’s been a long time, Charles,” Erik murmured.

Charles felt Erik’s words reverberating down to his bones, as if Erik had spoken them directly into his mind and not out loud at all. He shivered. “That’s not why I brought you here,” he said, meaning this room, meaning with-him. He didn’t need telepathy to know what Erik was thinking; it was heavy in the air around them, hot beneath his skin.

“No,” Erik said. “But … ten years, Charles. Ten years, and they never let me see another person.” A sharp inhale. “You were the only one I wanted to see, of course.”

Erik’s fingers hooked under his socks and pulled those off as well. His fingertips were cool on the top of Charles’ feet, calloused, touching him like he expected Charles to pull away. Charles tried. His limbs felt heavy, unmovable.

“But you left me there,” Erik finished, and Charles watched the shift of his weight from foot to foot as he toed off his own shoes. He climbed onto the bed, moving up the length of Charles’ body, the mattress dipping under the weight of his hands and knees. Erik touched Charles’ stomach, smoothing his hands up toward Charles’ chest and Charles could feel his hot breath on the side of his neck, shallow little exhales. “Ten years, and you left me to rot.”

Charles wanted to protest, tell Erik he thought he’d been guilty, but the words wouldn’t come. All he made was a keening sound in the back of his throat, tight and embarrassing. Erik’s lips moved against his neck, warm and soft; Charles flinched away but Erik followed, pressing a hand to Charles’ opposite cheek to keep him in place. 

“Erik — ” he managed, and Erik hushed him, catching his lips in a kiss.

Erik’s mouth was hot, pressing firm against his, one of his hands clasping with Charles’ and pressing his arm down against the bed. Ten years hadn’t made Erik less demanding; he took the kiss he wanted, coercing it from Charles’ lips and tongue. Charles jerked his head away and Erik’s mouth hit his cheek, but Erik seemed to take that as nothing but an invitation, kissing down Charles’ neck, fingers slipping Charles’ buttons free and licking at the exposed skin. Charles tried to push himself up, push Erik off him, but only succeeded in arching against him — and he felt the press of Erik’s erection dragging against his hip, hard and unmistakable.

Erik sat back, nudging Charles’ legs to either side of his body so he was knelt between them, thumbing open the button of Charles’ fly. Charles’ tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth, the serum dulling his senses and making it near impossible to move, to speak, his body limp and good to be nothing but Erik’s plaything — and he felt every bit as helpless in that moment as he always did in the chair, frustrated and immobilized. If he’d only had his power, he thought, and the voice in his head sounded more like Erik’s than his own. 

“I don’t want this, Erik,” he said, finally, words sounding slurred even to his own ears.

Erik arched a brow and pressed the heel of his hand between Charles’ legs at the bulge of his cock straining up against his trousers, said, “Really?”

Charles swallowed around the heaviness in his throat. He thought he could feel tears prickling against his eyes and he said, “You _left_ me.”

Erik bent down and kissed Charles’ stomach just below the navel, and when he rubbed his hand down harder against Charles’ groin Charles couldn’t help the shudder of pleasure that tumbled through him, all blurred together with his building anxiety. “I’m not having that conversation again, Charles,” Erik said, lips moving against Charles’ skin. “Not now.” 

Charles felt his skin go hot beneath Erik’s mouth and he groaned softly, hating himself a little bit for it, and hating Erik for laughing and undoing his fly with his power, hooking his fingers under the waistband of Charles’ trousers to pull them down. 

The air was cool on his cock, though Charles only felt it for a moment, for then Erik was closing his hand around his shaft and pulling a slow firm stroke upward. Charles shivered, his entire body shaking, never mind the way the serum made him feel weighted and heavy. 

“Mmm. You like that, I think.” Erik’s thumb swept over the slit and he slid his grasp down then up again once more, moving Charles’ foreskin over the shaft of his dick and sending another hot pulse down between Charles’ legs. 

“God — ” Charles choked out.

Erik tugged his trousers and underwear down together, dragging them off his legs and dropping them onto the floor behind him. Exposed and unable to move Charles felt cold, bare, like a fish out of water waiting to have its soft belly slit. Erik’s hands moved back up his thighs, spread broad. Charles imagined how much worse it would be if he were watching Erik touch him but couldn’t feel it, seeing Erik caress his legs as if they belonged to somebody else. Erik kissed him again, his mouth hot, cupping Charles’ face between his hands. Charles had to give him that — at least it did keep Charles from turning away.

Charles tried to grab at Erik’s neck but his fingers slipped on smooth skin, dropping back down onto the bed, limp. He could feel his guts twisting into knots even as he pressed his mouth up harder against Erik’s, let Erik slide his tongue between his lips. 

“Charles,” Erik murmured, biting at him, then grinning, all sharp white teeth. “You never should have shown me how to love a man. I wonder if you regret it.” 

He caught Charles’ wrist in his grasp, guiding it down between their bodies and pressing Charles’ palm flat against Erik’s lap. God — Charles could … he could feel Erik’s erection straining against his trousers, hard and warm, and Erik had always had the most _massive_ cock, it had never been any great feat, to act like he was worshiping it as he sucked it down his throat. 

“I — I don’t. Regret it.”

Erik looked surprised at that, one brow arching up. “You don’t?”

“No. …Yes. I — I don’t _know._ For Christ’s sake, I’m not your … I’m not your human dildo, Erik. Let me go.”

“No,” Erik agreed. “Actually, I was thinking I’d fuck _you_ for a change.”

It was Charles’ turn to be surprised, and Erik took full advantage; before Charles recovered Erik already had his fly undone and his cock out, firm against Charles’ touch, Erik’s larger hand curving over his to fit it round the thick shaft. 

“Don’t look so put off,” Erik said. He rocked his hips forward into the circle of Charles’ fingers and Charles couldn’t stop staring at it, the ruddy size of him, the slick head rutting toward him. Erik was cut, and Charles’ hand was dry, it had to hurt a little, but if it did Erik didn’t seem to mind. “I’ve had a lot of time to think, in solitary, about the kinds of things I’d like to do to you. If I saw you again. And, of course, I knew I would.” A harsh exhale and Erik leaned down again, stole another kiss. “I knew you’d come for me eventually. Hate me all you like, we’re two parts of the same whole. You said that yourself.”

“I don’t know everything.” Charles’ voice came out thick and he pressed his free hand to his cheek. At least he could move that much. 

His hand came away wet; he was crying. He hadn’t even noticed.

“That isn’t what you said to me back in Richmond. To keep me from leaving the CIA facility. Do you remember?”

Charles did remember. That was the problem. Erik’s cock twitched slightly in his hand and he grit his teeth to keep from saying anything else, tried to pull his wrist out of Erik’s grasp, only he couldn’t, Erik was holding him there, too strong. Erik moved his hand on his dick a few more times before he pulled back, getting off the bed to strip off his clothes until he was entirely naked. Whatever ten years in prison might have done to Erik’s mind, his body was as fit as it had ever been, all long lean muscle and corded veins. There was an unzipping sound and Erik leaned over — fuck him, the bastard, because Charles’ gaze went straight to his perfect round ass — and when he stood again he was holding a travel-sized tube of lotion.

“Condom,” Charles said. Because if Erik was going to make him do this, he damn well wasn’t doing it bareback.

“Do you think they gave me a stash in prison? I have what you packed for me, nothing else.” Erik paused, suddenly, eyes gone narrow. “You don’t have a disease, do you?”

Charles shook his head. Under the serum’s influence the motion made him feel slightly seasick. “What,” he rasped out. “Now you aren’t just going to fuck me, you’re going to fuck me bare? With … _scented lotion_ , for lube? I thought I knew all your kinks.” He laughed, the sound a little manic even to his own ears, too uneven and uncontrolled. “Shall I list them? The things I could say would shock a whore. God, you’re depraved, even I —”

Erik shut him up with a hand over his mouth, climbing back onto the bed to kneel over him, bringing his lips very close to Charles’ ear, close enough he could feel the heat of Erik’s breath when he spoke. “Stop it now, _motek._ ” When he kissed Charles’ cheek it was soft and gentle, and he slowly dropped his hand away to comb it back through Charles’ hair instead, a gesture too loving to be painless.

Charles felt like he couldn’t breathe, trapped there under Erik’s body, and — it was terrifying, not to be able to fight back; he felt like he was in his own body again for once, fucking … fucking _useless_. Helpless. He could feel his heart quivering behind his ribs, fluttering like a bird with clipped wings against the bars of its cage. Frantic and ineffective. Ha. Words that could describe Charles far better than any bird. Erik’s mouth was on his lips again, then his neck, and Charles heard the pop of the cap on the lotion bottle. Erik’s slicked-up fingers were cold as they slid between his ass cheeks, Erik’s middle finger stroking over his hole. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Charles snapped, feeling reckless and mean, but Erik was already pushing his finger past that tight ring of muscle at Charles’ hole and — Charles gagged a little and turned his face away, pressing his face into his forearm so he wouldn’t be tempted to … to look at Erik. To see him. 

But see him or not, he could certainly _feel_ him, moving that long elegant finger inside him, pressing its tip against his inner walls. It was more than Charles had had in … oh, years, and it left him feeling full and swollen already, just from the one. Christ, had it really been that long? He’d made his — overtures — to Hank, of course, because the two of them, trapped in one house for over a decade together, Hank so … accommodating, so loyal, even after everything, surely Charles could be forgiven for having assumed, having _wanted_ …. What would Erik think, if Charles told him of those times when, drunk, he’d all but thrown himself at Hank. How Hank would demur, and take Charles back to his bedroom, and stay only to wipe Charles’ mouth when he vomited. 

Erik added a second finger, now, alongside the first, and Charles’ hole ached with it, clenching and convulsing around Erik’s knuckles, trying to force the digits out. If he told Erik about Hank, Erik would be jealous. Wouldn’t he? He would resent Hank for being the one to stay at Charles’ side, blind as ever to the fact that he himself had had that choice, could have chosen differently. It would have been Erik’s arms Charles tried to lose himself in. Only, only if it had been Erik, then Raven would have stayed, as well, and Charles might never have needed to get lost at all.

Charles’ breath hitched at that, but Erik, who had just started trying to push a third finger in, must have blamed it on the pain in Charles’ hole because he withdrew that finger and said, “More lotion, I think.”

There was the cool feeling of liquid on his ass, and Erik tried again; Charles’ hole stretched to accommodate him and Charles felt … full, stuffed, swollen and used already. He turned his head again, this time to see Erik’s face. Erik was watching his fingers sliding in and out of Charles’ ass, enraptured, as if he’d never seen anything like it before. And maybe he hadn’t. Charles hadn’t exactly taken a detailed tour of Erik’s sexual history last time he was in his mind. 

The serum made the feel of Erik’s fingers moving in his hole feel strangely removed, like it was happening on a different level of reality. Like Charles was watching this happen to himself, instead of actually experiencing it. “What,” he said after a few seconds, flopping his arm back onto the bed and meeting Erik’s eye. “You going to do this all night?”

Erik’s mouth twitched, half a smile, and he pulled his fingers free. Only, only now Charles regretted saying anything, because if it wasn’t Erik’s fingers then it was going to be his cock, and Charles had the sudden, urgent need to push him away — and he could have fought Erik off, once upon a time, maybe, or at least have stood a fighting chance, but with the serum making his mind and reflexes sluggish he was no more use than a dead goldfish. 

Erik slicked his cock up with the lotion, a wet sound that made Charles flinch, and then he was hovering over Charles with one hand braced on the mattress by Charles’ pillow, the fat head of his cock pushing up against Charles’ quivering hole. 

“Erik ….” The sound was tight, and Charles reached for Erik’s shoulders, pushed, but there was no effort behind it; the serum had worn off enough for him to move but not enough to resist. Erik tilted his head and kissed Charles’ wrist, and when he pushed in — when he pushed in, just the tip, already it felt like, like … “ _Fuck_ ,” Charles gasped, and Erik grabbed his left leg beneath the thigh and pushed it higher up, getting a better angle as he thrust forward, sliding the rest of the way into Charles’ ass in a single long stroke. 

Erik swore in French; he was staring down at the junction of their bodies, his huge dick buried balls-deep in Charles’ ass, lips parted. “You’re so …” Erik began, and when he broke off Charles mentally offered up _strung-out? unwilling? physically malleable?_ and Erik finished, “… **tight**.”

Charles laughed, a little harshly. “You think yours is the first cock that’s been up there? Think again.”

A dark look flashed over Erik’s expression, and Charles pressed his lips into a thin smile, shifting a little; the movement made Erik’s thickness inside him especially obvious, filling him up, and Charles was hit with the sudden, unfortunate mental image of himself as a stuck pig. 

“I don’t care about the others,” Erik said, even though the look on his face said otherwise, as did the way he started to fuck him, steady forward snaps of his hips that jostled Charles up the bed and made him feel raw and wide, Erik’s fingers digging into the flesh of his thigh. Erik leaned over him, closer, bracketing Charles in with his body and making it unavoidable to look at him. Color had risen high in Erik’s cheeks and his eyes were too-bright, pupils dark and dilated. 

Charles let Erik push his leg further back, Erik grabbing onto the headboard for leverage to thrust hard into his ass, mattress creaking beneath their moving bodies. Whatever Charles had said, it had been a long time since he’d been fucked like this. Since graduate school, even, and Erik’s cock … whatever else one might say about Erik, his cock was enormous. It felt like Erik was trying to split him open with it, a deep delicious ache spreading through Charles’ ass and legs. 

“You have a really big dick,” Charles stated, feeling a little bit drunk off it, the drag of Erik’s cock inside him making him shiver. 

Erik snorted, but he fucked harder, faster, balls slapping against Charles’ ass, groaning on a particularly deep thrust. The sound sent a burst of warmth through Charles’ gut and he arched up against Erik despite himself, tilting his head back to expose his throat.

“Fuck,” Erik gasped, and he licked Charles’ neck, breath shuddering against Charles’ skin. 

“Good, isn’t it?” Charles said, clenching his ass hard around Erik’s cock just to hear Erik moan again, voice breaking. 

Erik reached down between them and took hold of Charles’ cock again, and he’d almost forgotten he had an erection, somehow, but now that Erik was touching him it was impossible to ignore. “Oh,” Charles said, blood throbbing through his groin. Erik rubbed his thumb over the slick head of Charles’ dick and Charles bit down hard on his lower lip, an electric feeling sizzling beneath his skin.

At least he wasn’t crying anymore, Charles thought, or the best as he could tell, he wasn’t. He could feel the heat in his face, and couldn’t help making a tight sound when Erik snapped his hips forward and the blunt head of his cock rubbed against his prostate, his cock jumping in Erik’s hand. He squirmed a little on Erik’s dick, trying to push up into Erik’s hand and down against the cock inside him at the same time, pleasure rolling through him down to the tips of his fingers and his curling toes. 

“Charles,” Erik breathed, stealing Charles’ mouth with his, the kiss rough and bruising and Charles groaned, finally managing to get his arms to work well enough to tangle his fingers in Erik’s hair and pull hard, but not hard enough that Erik obeyed, not hard enough to make him pull back. Maybe he could, a dull part of him tried to say. He could fight back, could stop this, only he couldn’t … fuck, couldn’t bring himself to try. Erik pinched Charles’ nipple and Charles yelped, the sound swallowed up by Erik’s mouth, Erik’s tongue pushing between his lips to slide against his.

“Can’t you fuck me any harder?” Charles demanded when Erik broke the kiss, yanking at Erik’s hair again.

“Needy,” Erik said, but he complied all the same, ramming his thick cock into Charles’ ass so fast the headboard banged against the wall, and Charles was certain they could hear it all the way in Logan and Hank’s room, they had to, with the — the _viciousness_ with which Erik fucked him, Charles crying out at every forward thrust, shaking, his body and mind coming undone with every hit of Erik’s dick against his prostate.

He could feel Erik getting close to the brink, just from the way Erik grabbed at his body, pawing at him possessively, jerking Charles’ cock hard and rough. Erik’s skin was slippery with perspiration and his hair was plastered to his forehead, dark auburn, eyes staring at Charles like they could consume him.

“Just get it over with,” Charles demanded through gritted teeth, and to his surprise Erik obeyed with a hoarse moan, cock plunging in and out of him in a smooth arrhythmic rhythm as he spurted his come, hot, into Charles’ ass.

Charles felt rattled as Erik finally came down, Erik’s weight heavy and oppressive on top of him, skin too-hot, almost feverish. His hands dropped back down to the bed and he blinked up at the ceiling, mind wiped blank and unable to figure out how he got here, his hole all sore and stretched around Erik’s still-hard cock, Erik’s jizz inside him. 

“Mmm,” Erik murmured against Charles’ chest. He pulled out of Charles’ hole with a wet sound, hands sliding down Charles’ sides. “Oh,” he said, after a moment. “You’re still ….”

“Don’t,” Charles said flatly. “Leave it.”

But Erik was crawling back on the bed already, curling his hand around Charles’ dick and bringing it to his mouth. When he sucked at the head Charles groaned and twisted his hands into fists in the bedsheets. Erik’s mouth was hot and wet, sucking perfectly around his shaft as Erik bobbed his head up and down, wasting no time, clearly determined to get Charles off. 

“God,” Charles managed to get out, cock pulsing hard in Erik’s mouth before he came, suddenly, surprising even himself with the force of it. Erik swallowed it down, his throat convulsing around Charles’ dick, and somehow he didn’t even gag, just … took it, nails digging into Charles’ hips.

“Better,” Erik said when he finally lifted his head again, licking a bead of come from the corner of his lips. Charles felt even more strung-out than he had been just a moment before, heart stammering in his chest and his limbs all numb. Erik kissed him and he could taste himself on his mouth, salty, earthy-tasting, Erik’s weight holding him down.

“You have your own bed, you know,” Charles said grouchily when it became clear that Erik wasn’t intending on moving. 

“I’d rather stay in this one, if it’s all the same to you.” Erik shifted off of him, pulling the duvet up over their bodies, blanketing them under cool cotton. He blinked and the overhead light switched off, casting the room into darkness. 

Charles’ eyes adjusted after a moment and he stared at Erik’s face, all pewter hues in the moonlight, long edges and lines. “This was a bad idea.”

“Was it?” Erik’s fingers were tracing small circles on his hip, light enough that Charles couldn’t quite ignore it, skin tingling under the touch.

“Yes.” Charles turned onto his side, facing away from Erik and forcing Erik’s hand to fall away from him. His heart was in his throat, a thick lump he couldn’t swallow down, no matter how hard he tried. Even his breath was coming unevenly, catching somewhere beneath his sternum. “If you think Hank and Logan won’t smell this on us tomorrow, you’re wrong.”

Erik laughed, low and soft. “I was counting on it.”

Charles felt Erik fall asleep behind him, a heavy weight dipping the mattress down, soft exhales against the back of his neck. But he stayed awake for hours, mind tumbling through formless thoughts as the high faded and left him feeling cold and dirty, used, and ashamed.

—

**Author's Note:**

> [sweet fancy moses, a tumblr!](http://www.spicedpiano.tumblr.com)


End file.
